I've always pondered on deaths door, but he's never opened. I could care less about the hell and heaven shenanigans, but death. I want it. The end of my life.
I want to be in my suit, in my coffin, in the ground and my soul to be gone. I've been wa...
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I don't want to stop. Its the only thing that makes me feel normal now. Without it, I'm nothing. I'm not a fast driver. I'm not a quick learner. I'm not a sweetheart. I'm a nobody without it. It's the only thing that gives purpose in my life.
And I don't care how much is costs or how damaging it is because as I said... I'm nothing without it.
I breath in a breath out quickly as I pour the powder onto my hand. I quickly sniff it all before shoving the almost completely empty packet into my sock. I shake my head and open my eyes wide to see myself in the bathroom mirror.
Nothing different. That's my favourite thing about this drug, I don't appear high or different. I look the same. My appearance hasn't and won't change which means I'll never get caught.
I smile widely before I leave the bathroom, entering the busy corridor. It's culture day at my school and since this is an international school, it's fucking bright. People walk around with their flags wrapped around them.
I notice countries I can barely pronounce. I hear songs I've never heard before. And I hear screams from a person I see everyday.
I roll my eyes as I walk up to the pair. "Malika! Listen to me!" Dylan yells as he claps his hands in front of Malika's face. She scoffs loudly at him. "I said we should match. I wear my blue kilt and you wear a blue hijab!" He adjusts his backpack strap as he continues yelling at her.
Now she's clapping in his face. "I don't care! I wanted to wear these colors!" I glance over at her to see a red hijab and black dress with a Palestinian flag wrapped around her. Dylan takes a few steps back, absolutely disgusted at her. "You're ruining this friendship!" I just stand here, watching the two argue like cats and dogs.
"Are they fighting again?" As her voice reaches my ears, a rush of emotions sweeps over me. It's a voice that feels like a distant memory, a melody I haven't heard in ages. It makes my heart dance erratically within my chest. My head snaps to the side and I'm met with big doe eyes.
A beautiful piece of bright blue fabric covers her body. It's shiny and it looks like I dress. I'm not sure what it's called, but goddamn. "When aren't they fighting, Arti?" I question, playing cool. It's not like we weren't talking a while ago. I guess she's the type to just move on.
Plus she just saved me $50 that I was going to spend on jewellery for her. Now that $50 that I saved can be spent of cocaine which means that the cocaine is free.
She laughs lightly as she hooks her arm around mine, making my heart flutter. She puts her head on my arm, snuggling closer. "Dylan! Stop trying to manipulate me!" Malika yells again, throwing one end of her hijab back.
We continue to watch the pair argue about the color of Malika's hijab before I feel a presence behind me. "What are they arguing about?" I look up to see Gambit standing tall with a red cap with a giant M on it and a stick on moustache while eating an entire sheet cake.
